"And if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing."

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My eyes were closed and I was leaning so far over in my seat I was almost falling out. We were finally free, heading west away from everything and everyone we knew. I couldn’t see where we were going, and I didn’t care, I trusted him. He had chosen a life with me after all this time.

I kept my eyes closed and my face as close to his as I could get, my elbows on his armrest. My eyes would flutter open here and there just enough to get a glimpse of his face right before he kissed me again. I felt blissfully and completely happy. Him, us, the unknown future consumed every ounce of my being.

I would wait, eyes closed, with my nose brushing his cheek, and every few seconds he would turn away from the wheel and kiss me, almost for too long.

I giggled and said, “Are you even watching where you’re going?”

He smiled, “It doesn’t matter, we’re already here.” He threw the old, white minivan in park, and before I could snap out of my hypnosis he was out the door and in the driveway. My consciousness acknowledging reality like a light switch, I looked down and noticed I was completely naked. He had opened the back door on the driver’s side of the van, and I scrambled to hide behind the bucket seat on the second row and at the same time find my clothes.

As if in slow motion, I looked to the driveway and processed what I saw. There he stood, just behind his wife, their two children on either side of them. They all looked genuinely confused, except for him. He wore a smug, slight grin on his face as if to say, “Gotcha bitch.”

Hysterical, as I began to cry I yelled, “What the hell is going on?! What are you doing?!”

I managed to get my pants on while my panic quickly turned to anger. I hopped out of the minivan, topless, clutching my tank top. I stomped up to him, “I can’t believe you would do this to me! You are the biggest piece of sh*t I’ve ever met!”

He backed away a few steps but I kept yelling as I put my shirt on, “You are a terrible person, you filthy liar!” I stabbed my finger in the air, “your mom and dad are sh*tty people, too, for raising such a f*cking lunatic.” Somehow, I knew that would get to him.

Thankfully I was clothed now, because I couldn’t move. As I stood there, we stared at each other and no one said anything. I realized then that I wasn’t actually angry, I was heartbroken. His expression had changed too, from pompous to ashamed. There was nothing left to do but leave. I turned and walked back to the van.

Here’s to those crazy dreams that happen right before you wake up in the morning.

Oh look! Another article in your news feed about how to better yourself in 2015. “Fifteen ways to be happier in 2015.” “Fifty Resolutions You Should be Making This Year.” “The Top 10 Resolutions to Make for Next Year.” You can be a journalist, or even a blogger, and have your own writing style without using a list for every single article you write.

#overit #endrant

I’m not making any resolutions this year. That’s right, I’m so awesome already, I don’t need to change myself. Not really, I just think about last year at this time when I made my resolutions, and the year before that, and the year before that. And how they never happened. And how they’re always the same.

[It’s really sad that “pray more” is at the bottom of that list below losing weight and biting my nails. Probably if that were at the top of the list I wouldn’t need anything else on the list.]

None of these things about me have changed over the last several years. My weight and routines have fluctuated but I am still the same person. New Years Resolutions don’t drastically change who you are just because the date on the calendar changes. You change because of things that happen to you over the course of that year, things that you have NO control over.

I sat down last December, much like in years’ past, and told myself I would lose weight, blind to what God and the universe actually had in store for me for 2014. A stress fracture in my foot, a new job, and most recently, a car accident.

Sometimes it feels like the more determined you are to do something, the more obstacles you find standing in your way. Just when I hit a great momentum of motivation I am stopped in my tracks. The accident left me with a concussion, back pain, a gastrointestinal bleed, and a ulcer (in a nutshell). Last night was my first night exercising in 20 days. The longest I’ve gone since my stress fracture. And there’s not much more discouraging than trying to work out in the gym when you feel tired, fat, and unmotivated.

Spoiler alert: people think that a new year means a new start, but the reality is your life continues the way it’s been going! You can’t change yourself, but you CAN change your attitude. Maybe 2014 wasn’t so shiny for you, I feel ya, man. But 2015 might be better for us if we change our attitudes and outlooks. It really sucks to get back in the gym after 20 days of not working out, but exercise is always the better choice than sitting on your fat ass at home! And sure, life may not always go as you plan, maybe you got laid off or got broken up with, but you know damn well those things always turn into something better down the road. I got into a car accident and got a brand new car, see? Case in point! So keep on truckin’ friend, headstrong into 2015.

I was just finishing off a bowl of chocolate chunk ice cream and thought to myself, “I should really post on my diet blog again.”

Well, here I am, almost 3 months later and zero pounds down. I could blame it on the fact that I broke my foot running the bridge run, but that feels cheap. After giving up the elliptical, treadmill, any body weight training like squats and lunges, and yes, even spin class was making my foot hurt, I decided to try the only other option, swimming.

You might be thinking, oh yea! Swimming’s fun! Nope. I remember being a kid at the YMCA one summer and learning to swim was cool because you got a new colored band to wear around your neck for each improvement you made, and at the end of the summer if you swam in the deep end you got a black band, and only the really cool kids had a black band.

I also remember one of the most embarrassing moments of my life when I attended a pool party in 7th grade with all my friends (and by friends I mean a bunch of girls who hated each other, because…middle school), all the guys were doing flips off the diving board. Typical Allie move, I decide to try and be cool, one of the guys, and as everyone watches me, I stand at the end of the diving board, muster up all my gymnastics knowledge and coordination, take a big jump and….belly flop.

I also enjoyed boogie boarding in middle school, I would go to the beach with my best friend Brittany and we could boogie board for hours and hours, all week long. My entire back peeled off one summer. Only problem was, without my boogie board I felt like I might drown. The worse part was a few times I got sucked under by a wave and salt water would go all up my nose and down my throat and in my lungs and in my ears and eyes and it was just AWFUL. One of the worst feelings ever.

Needless to say my entire life I’ve been a nose-plugger. Any time I jump into water, or even dip my head under, I plug my nose with my fingers. Any time I can’t touch the bottom I have what probably constitutes as a minor anxiety attack. No wonder I put off this whole “swimming for fitness” thing for several weeks, but I had no other choice, and finally one day I just went. I swam 25 meters and had to stop to catch my breath. For the first few times I had to stop after every 25 meters and breathe. Oh, I also had my head above the water, like I didn’t put my face in, so my neck was killing me the next day and I also felt like an idiot.

This week, in the last 4 days, I’ve easily swam somewhere around 3000-4000 meters. This is after about 6 weeks of swimming at least 3 days a week, but once I finally got the hang of it, I didn’t want to stop. I know, it sounds just as weird coming out as it does to hear it. I actually found a form of exercise I don’t loathe. Isn’t that bizarre? Now you all think I’m a weirdo.

Swimming is nothing like any other form of cardio. The best thing is no one knows when you’re sweating profusely. Your thighs don’t rub together and you don’t have to keep pulling your shorts down. You don’t have to bring a towel to wipe your sweat because it’s dripping onto your bike (but you do have to bring a towel, it’s a pool after all). No one’s yelling at you to pedal faster or zumba harder or hold that plank longer. There’s no music, playlists, or “get pumped music.” All I hear is my inhale and my bubbles. And sometimes I don’t hear anything because my ears fill with water. You don’t have to wear makeup or worry about your hair. The makeup will run and make you look like a day-old prostitute and your hair is in a tiny bun in a skin-tight cap. And the very best part? That one-piece sucks in all that tummy. Oh yea baby, it’s like spanxx for your workout.

Now I can jump into water and not plug my nose! That’s a huge deal for me. I could probably also not drown now, so that’s good too.

I’m addicted and I just can’t enooouuuugh. I just can’t get enoouuugghh I just can’t get enoouuggh.. .

How do we become so convinced that waking up before sunrise, putting on uncomfortable clothes, and driving to a job where we do just about the same thing every day is going to be THE GREATEST THING EVER!?!? That was my mindset in high school and college anyways. I used to think that by the time I was 25 I would be living in New York City working some really glamorous job like managing a fashion magazine. I turn 25 in two months and I’m nowhere close to that, and I think it’s because one thing that causes you to be an adult is drive and discipline. And I just don’t usually have those things. That’s hard for me to admit because I know I CAN work hard, sometimes I just choose not to.

My bed is just so fantastic. When my alarm goes off in the morning, no matter what time it is, I hate it. I loathe my alarm with every ounce of my being. My mom used to set the vacuum in my room and turn it on and walk out, granted it was about 2:00 in the afternoon and I was still sleeping. These days I find myself waking up to a 5:30am alarm to go to the gym, and SPIN for that matter! What the heck is wrong with me. I woke up at 5am last weekend to run 6 miles with 40,000 people. So many people. So much running. So early. So. So. Early.

Pretty cool though right?!?! They have a saying that goes with the Bridge Run that’s “Get Over It!” Super corny but, sometimes you really do just have to suck it up and get over it. And I did, and I have been continuing to find the adult in myself and stop whining about how I hate mornings and just get over it and go to the gym. Well, I will probably always whine about mornings but at least my boyfriend calls me a lazy slob a lot less when I get up at the same time he does to work out.

On a side note, three days after I ran the super cool Bridge Run, I found out I had a stress fracture in my foot! That’s what I get for not training and pushing myself too hard. So for a few weeks I am limited to only spin classes and upper body workouts, but I’m just going to get over it and do the best I can. I’ve gotten back to the point where if I skip a day at the gym I feel miserable and disgusting. That’s a great place to be because you don’t dread working out every day, you actually feel better and almost look forward to it. Almost. Holding yourself accountable works way better than any friend holding you accountable, once you start feeling guilty about not working out you’re on the right track. So glad I’m back on that track.

I don’t know if I will be at my peak of fitness by summer, but at this point I’m happy with myself for trying to be healthier and learning about how to take better care of my body. Find your reason to get up before sunrise and the workout will be worth it! Even if it’s so that you can drink beer that night…..yes, that’s my motivation most days.

As if THE Struggle wasn’t enough, I had my free one-on-one consultation at my new gym last week. This should be motivating and uplifting right? WRONG. The trainer, Leslie, told me to stop eating carbs again. Just when I started thinking carbs were okay, she tells me “Allie, if you cut carbs out of your diet, I can guarantee you will see pounds fall off.” Well I’m not going to argue with a professional trainer.

Thankfully, I left for a mini-vacay in New York City the next day, which meant CHEAT WEEKEND!! And oh, did I cheat…burgers, fries, cheese, gnocchi, tacos, pizza, beer, liquor, and more beer (see pictures below, if you dare tempt yourself). I was fully prepared to gain at least 5 pounds once I got home. I didn’t factor in that we probably walked every street in Manhattan, so shockingly I didn’t gain any weight.

Chezz. Tacuzz. Ahmletzz. Pastuzz. Sugazz.

Monday morning I started this terrible, awful, no good, very bad diet, that consists of eggs and fruit for breakfast, a big salad for lunch, and lean meat and veggies for dinner. I am allowed to snack only on natural, unsalted nuts, fruit, and natural peanut butter. I am avoiding salt and sugar as much as possible. So naturally, I got to work today and saw a pack of saltines in the breakroom and ripped into them. They were stale and disappointing, it was a sign I suppose. Also, on Monday, a resident brought a dozen cookies into the office and placed them on my desk. I had one, there was no resisting. You tell me which one looks more appetizing:

Yea, that’s what I thought. You would cave too.

The good news here is that I have lost 3 pounds in the last 3 days on this terrible, awful, no good, very bad [but effective] diet. Leslie also talked me into unlimited spin classes, so by summer I’ll be Adriana Lima’s twin, y’all.

There comes a time in every woman’s life when she looks in the mirror and says, “THAT’S IT MAN! I’m not gonna look like this anymore!” This special time has come more than once for me, I’d say this is probably the third time I’ve had one of those serious talks with myself. Better late (or again) than never!

I read this post last week, and decided to try it out. This girl sounds like she knows what she’s talking about, and I want to look beefy, okay? Not really, I just want to be healthy and get in shape, and I agree 100% with her entire post. So on Monday I started trying to “lift heavy” like she talks about, which basically meant using more weight on the machines in my tiny gym at my apartment complex. I felt a little sore after a couple days, #winning. Then I found this groupon thingy for 30 fitness classes for 20 bucks!! So I bought it, of course.

I was supposed to get 10 classes from a gym just down the street from me, so I signed up for one, printed my voucher and marched in there at 8:15 ON MY DAY OFF, yup. They informed me that they weren’t honoring the groupon anymore, but that I could still attend the class that day and they would give me a couple more to make up for it. (Awesome, right? By the way, the gym is Chucktown Fitness and I highly recommend it!) The class kicked my booty and on top of that every staff member working knew my name by the time I walked out the door. And no, that’s not because I was so uncoordinated or just incredibly awesome at the workout, they are just super nice. (But for the record, I was incredibly awesome at the workout, the trainer told me so.)

I was so overwhelmingly impressed by this gym that I actually went back the next day and joined! And it gets better…I went to ask a trainer to show me how to do something and he worked with me one-on-one for 30 minutes until I couldn’t walk anymore. Lunges for days.

Today I feel like I’ve put in such effort this week, and not just because my legs are sore every time I move them, along with my triceps, but because my whole mentality has changed (besides the pizza I ate last night). I keep wanting to see a change in the scale or in my measurements but I know that’s unrealistic. I’m going to have to have many more weeks like this one and slowly things will change and I will feel better and better about myself! After all, it’s not for anyone but myself and my body. Fitness should be self-improvement, not comparing yourself to others and setting goals based on how someone else’s body looks.

Bottom line is, I hope I want to put on my bikini in May. Fat chance, sista, but we gon’ keep workin’.

I’ve found that the harder I try to lose weight and “be good,” the more random people make it challenging for me. I made note of a few examples over the last week or so.

First, one fine Monday, I had a particular hankerin’ for Wendy’s, as I sometimes get. What? I enjoy their “sea salt” fries and floppy burgers every once in a while, okay? I told myself that what I really needed was quarters to do laundry, and used Wendy’s as an excuse to ask someone behind a cash register for laundry change. Two birds with one stone, people. I also said to myself, “Self, you don’t have a lot of money right now since you’re saving up for your New York trip, so let’s keep this order sweet and simple, under $3.” No big, that’s what value menus are for. With all of this churning in my dieting brain, I ordered a Jr. Cheeseburger…NOT a Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger, just to clarify. And a value fry. And a small diet coke, just for kicks and giggles. The lady told me my total would be six dollars and something. I said no, no. Just take that drink off, I didn’t need the carbonation anyways. She then told me my new total was four dollars and something, whatever lady, just give me my burger before I change my mind about this trip entirely. I asked the not-so-friendly worker if she had any quarters and she answered, “I already closed my drawer.” Oh, awesome. So I drive away and when I get home I see that there are actually TWO Jr. Cheeseburgers in the bag. And I DEFINITELY did not eat both of them. Nope, definitely not. And in case you were wondering, that meal was 940 calories.

Second, I joined some friends at a restaurant/bar downtown this past Sunday to watch some rugby. Well, I just went because Rob bribed me with brunch. My dieting brain + hunger pangs told me to get the ham and cheese, which sounded like a simple sandwich that would satiate me until dinner. My “ham and cheese” was plopped in front of me, the “sandwich” was actually two giant pieces of texas toast with about half a pound of ham in between, melted cheesy deliciousness covering the entire square footage of the sandwich, and a perfectly cooked duck egg on top. It looked incredible, but all I saw was CALORIES CALORIES CALORIES. Funny enough, one of the guys with us looked at me and said, “Allie, you won’t eat that whole thing.” And I replied, “Challenge accepted, sir.” And so it goes…I ate the whole darn thing. And it was SOO GUD.

The Asians are just way too smart for me, they clearly have the same “skinny Goddess” as we do here in America, who plans and plots scenarios and makes sure they go her way before they even happen. Hence, this fortune cookie, that I opened after devouring a box the size of my face of General Tso’s chicken, an egg roll soaked in duck sauce, and several crab rangoons. How funny! Not.

Indeed, Skinny Goddess, tomorrow I MAY diet. I didn’t, though. I didn’t diet at all. TAKE THAT, UNIVERSE!

I must say though, I do strongly encourage everyone to splurge on copious amounts of Chinese every few months or so. It’s quite therapeutic, and although all you want to do afterwards is sleep, or complain about how terrible you feel for eating so much, it’s totally worth all that shame and self-loathing.

I decided to forego carbs starting the day after Christmas, after eating at least a gallon of butter-smothered holiday chex mix for 72 hours prior. Actually, I decided I needed to lose about 15 pounds…what I had gained over the course of the past 6 months. Actually just complex carbs, because literally EVERYTHING has carbs in it. No joke. Yogurt has carbs. Beans have carbs. Peanut butter has carbs. And I ain’t givin up peanut butter and beans, people. Yogurt, you can go, but the beans and PB are staying.

This no-carb idea was just a way to “kick start” my little pow wow. I thought to myself, “surely, if I don’t eat bread, crackers, potatoes, or pasta for a week or two, I’ll drop at least five pounds.” That left me with salad, chicken, salad, tuna, salad, eggs, and maybe some salad minus the lettuce if I was feeling really crazy. I LITERALLY DID NOT PUT A [COMPLEX] CARB IN MY MOUTH FOR SIX DAYS STRAIGHT.That’s right, except for when my boyfriend made me breakfast, like the sweet man that he is, and there was toast. It’s okay. And then I got some kind of stomach bug/food poisoning and all I ate that day was crackers and peanut butter. Whoopsies. But seriously, you guys, like a week!

And I did lose a few pounds, but now I’m stuck at 7 pounds down…lots to go. Before I start these regular rantings, I feel it’s necessary to give a little background. Maybe a little, “I am … therefore I think” activity.

I am a woman…therefore, I think I’m fat.

I am in my twenties…therefore I think I’m broke.

I have friends…therefore, I think I have no time for exercise (some days).

I love food…therefore, I think I must always diet.

Ah, and there we have it. I have been dieting, to some extent, since high school. Since I was fourteen. That’s ten years. TEN YEARS I have been dieting, exercising, doing it all right. And have I ever been happy with my weight? Abso-freakin-lutely not. And I’m not fat, I’m well aware of that. I’ve never been “overweight” according to BMI charts, I’ve never been called fat (directly), but most days I look in the mirror and I’m not happy with what I see. I’ve come to the conclusion that every girl has a mindset somewhat related to mine, we are never happy. And even if, by some miracle, we are happy with our weight, there’s something else we find to be unhappy about, our hair, our nose, our toes, who knows. I also enjoy poetry.

The older I get, the more comical it is to me. I’ve become so insensitive to my own thoughts that my constant weight battle is slightly entertaining. Like a couple months ago I stepped on the scale, as I do every day, and the number had been increasing pretty steadily, and finally I thought to myself, “welp Allie, you’ve done it again. You’re fat and now you have to work off all that food you’ve been eating, and it’s gonna suck.” (Even though I JUST did that! Ten months ago, I was the most in-shape and happy with my body as I had been in years.) And I’ll stand in front of the mirror and poke my stomach out and make a fart noise with my mouth. Another day, another diet. One day of cheating equals one week of salads and gym trips.